


And I Feel Something So Wrong, Doing the Right Thing.

by floatawaysomedays



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatawaysomedays/pseuds/floatawaysomedays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything that kills me....makes me feel alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And I Feel Something So Wrong, Doing the Right Thing.

 

You wonder which fate is worse.

He feels like home, like the wind beneath your wings, and when he touches you it’s like electricity. Like lightning He burns beautiful and bright. 

He is the Morning Star.

He is your brother. Not like Gabriel or Raphael or even Raziel. Lucifer is unlike any of them. All of them. In your heart of hearts you know that he is yours and you are his and nothing can even begin to compare to what you are to each other. 

Maybe that’s why you love him so fiercely. So adamantly.

You started as fledglings. You remember twisting your wings together before you rested in the fields outside of the Garden. His wings always overshadowed yours in terms of light. Their gold was unmatched. But yours were wider. You used to tell him that Father tailor-made your wings to cover and protect _both_  of you. He used to smile when you told him that story. 

You played together, swatted at Anael’s wings in the Library and laughed behind your hands. Tossed Zachariah’s toy between you, back and forth over his head. Lucifer was full of mischief in your youth, you were just along for the ride. For his easy laughter.

Maybe you should have anticipated it. Expected it.

In many ways, you grew together. Until you grew apart. You believed in what your Father was doing, because that’s what he asked of you. You watched him create the new life that was meant for Earth. The humans. Beautiful in their own way, but nothing like angels. Nothing like His first children. You watched because you wanted your Father’s approval.

Lucifer did not.

He glanced at the new creations and shook his head. He told you later that he would not claim to love them as much as he loved your Father, because he didn’t. Because it would be a lie. He said that they were not worthy. He would not _listen._

And when your Father asked the Host, Lucifer did what he said he would. 

He refused.

Part of you never believed he would do this. Part of you wanted to hope that he would change his mind. That he wouldn’t invoke God’s wrath. That he would stay because you needed him to stay. Because maybe he needed you just as much as you needed him.

In the end, it doesn’t matter what you want, or need, because he’s already made his choice. Your Father orders you to punish him for his dissent. For his disobedience.

He tells you to cast Lucifer from Heaven.

You want to scream and rail against Lucifer. You want to ask him if he is  _happy_.

But you can clearly see that he is  _not_. That he wants this as much as you want it. That he wishes to remind you of how it was, how you were together, before you do this.

And you are nothing but a good son in that last moment when you look into Lucifer’s eyes for the last time, when you refuse to touch him gently when he flares his wings towards yours, you are not his. You are not his friend. You are not the one who loved him more than the rest. The one who touched, and straightened, his feathers with quiet reverence in times of peace. The one who stood by his side and sang his praises louder than the rest. You will not sing or speak. You cannot be that beloved, best brother. In that harsh moment you are none of those things.

You are a sword, an instrument, and nothing more.

Lucifer is not the exception. More of your brothers and sisters refuse your Father, but none of them drive a knife through you quite the way Lucifer did. None of them split you to your very core and turn you inside out. Upside down. Peel away at your very thoughts and beliefs until his doubts are now yours.

Nothing breaks you like Lucifer’s betrayal.

When it is over, when it is finished, Heaven is very, very still. It’s quiet beyond measure. There is no singing, no crying, no movement. There is nothing, only hush and a vast emptiness.

You think it is darker than it was before. 

And when the dust of burnt wings settles you wonder if you will hear Lucifer’s screams in your mind for all of eternity or if they’ll fade. You ask yourself if you will forever see golden wings set ablaze against the ink of the night sky when you close your eyes, or if you’ll forget. 

You wonder which fate is worse.

 

***

 

You are the good son, and you do your job after that.

 

Humanity thrives, despite itself. As much as you swore to love it, a part of you loathes the thing that separated you from your brother. A part of you resents the new creation even as it marvels at your Father’s handiwork.

God sends you to Earth. He asks a favor of you, a small task.

You obey as a piece of you screams that something is horribly wrong.

When you return to Heaven, you find that he is gone. You search the Throne room, you ask the Guardians, and the Keepers. You inquire about the last orders that were given to Seraphs.

You ask Gabriel last. He is the closest thing you ever had to Lucifer, and he only shakes his head and sets a hand on your shoulder. It will be the last you see of him, although you don’t realize it. Gabriel will leave you, too. He will slip away in the middle of the night after you retreat to the Garden to find Joshua.

But none of it matters, because God is gone, now, too. Something of Heaven is muted  and you just know that you are painfully, torturously, alone.

The screaming never dissipates.

***

You don’t speak, in so many words.

It doesn’t matter. The Host goes on through feelings and vague ideas. They hardly need your voice to lead choirs or assemble forces. They understand your desires, your wishes.

You don’t use your voice for hundreds of years.

Not until Egypt.

Everything is going according to plan, everything is on the verge of finality. Of completion. This, at least, was foretold ages ago. You are leading a group of Seraphs on the final plague when word reaches you that someone is disobeying.

Someone is deliberately saving the children they are supposed to be slaughtering.

You order your garrison to finish, and you fly as the whispers reach you. One name. Unfamiliar, but a brother nonetheless.

Castiel.

You find him with a boy wrapped in his arms, green eyes and a bright smile. Castiel is holding him close to his chest, one hand cradling his head as he spreads his wings. You order him to cease any and all aid immediately. You remind him of his duty. Of his place. Of the consequences of his actions.

He clutches the infant closer, and curls his wings slightly.

You are thrown back in time at the direct disobedience, and the pain is still as fresh as it was then. You decide instantly that you will not lose another. Not like that.

You strike out at Castiel, and return him to Heaven. Where he belongs.

The answer lies with your sister, Naomi.

She is quick with a knife and a drill. She’s cunning and fast. She could convince an angel it was a fish if you gave her the right tools.

You give her Castiel and she... fixes it.

He is returned to the line as if nothing had happened. He has no recollection of his weakness. Castiel is like new, all over again.

***

When Castiel rebels, in earnest this time, you should be shocked. Zachariah is fuming. He can’t believe that he is losing control over one tiny Seraph, and a vessel that is more cocky confidence and snark than anything else. He is angry in a righteous sort of way.

But you aren’t.

It has been coming for a long time now, with Castiel's previous errors. You realize now that you could never fix something your Father made that way in the first place. You know what the vessel means. You know what is to come. Lucifer is walking the Earth. You will have to meet him again, eventually. Your orders are to kill him. To strike him down, for good this time.

You should love obeying your Father’s orders but in this there is only a resigned, weary acceptance.

When Dean Winchester refuses, and insists that he will continue to refuse, you dare to take it as a sign. You dare to hope that maybe this is not meant to be. Maybe you will not have to meet Lucifer there on the battlefield. Maybe destiny, fate, has been rearranged.

Maybe there could be...something.

Since Lucifer fell, you dare to hope that you could speak with your brother as you did thousands of years ago.

You miss him. Your wings and your Grace ache with it constantly. You are almost glad that this will all be over soon. That it will be resolved, and put aside finally. This burden your Father has put on your shoulders is so close to being lifted.

You wish for it to be over at the same moment that Adam is trapped. You should care that he was half-tricked into this room. Into agreeing to be your vessel.

But you don’t.

***

The exact moment he takes Sam Winchester it feels as if dawn has broken somewhere in Heaven.

It won’t be long now.

He is so very different when you make it to Stull Cemetery. His wings for one thing. You know they are your doing. Your fault.

Their golden light is now blackened. For a few moments your borrowed voice is choked. Cut off. You stare at each other until he breaks the heavy silence. “It’s good to see you, Michael.”

Lucifer’s true voice is like a balm that you didn’t know you needed.

He tries to convince you to stop this. He tries to reason with you like you attempted to reason with him so long ago. It doesn’t work, it wasn’t designed to. Lucifer knows you better than that. The pitiful excuses he gives don’t ruffle you.

Until he asks you to walk off the chessboard, and you have to shake your head.

He is not the same as he was. He’s not the Morning Star, not anymore. His Grace is in tatters, woven through with the darkness of the Cage. He is hardened 

And you have done this to him. You. The one who was supposed to call him brother and sing his praises. The one who loved him cast him away.

Who is the monster now?

“I’m sorry.” You say, and then you protest. You tell him everything he already knows. You cite orders. You bring your Father into this. You grasp at your last straws because if you don’t listen to your orders you don’t know what will happen. You are not like Lucifer you need order, not chaos. You need light, even if he has grown accustomed to darkness.

You don’t know why is has to be like this, but it does. And then it doesn’t. Sam Winchester does the unthinkable. He overtakes Lucifer and then opens the Cage. And then he is looking at you, wide-eyed, but certain, as he grabs Adam’s jacket. You are an angel. Your strength is ten times what his is. You could fight him. You could resist.

But you don’t.

You remember the way the light reflected from Lucifer’s wings. You think about what you’ve done to him and what he’s suffered. You think about Sam and Dean Winchester and their own bond. Beaten down and stomped on, but not broken. Never broken. They will always choose each other.

And you close your eyes and follow your brother down to the Cage that you sealed him in all those years ago.

You choose him the way you should have.

You fall in to the smell of ash and smoke, and you feel the wind beneath your wings for the last time.

The screaming stops, and he is bright for a moment just like he was, before the Cage closes and it’s dark around you both.

He is the Morning Star.

 


End file.
